Londerland
by MikuLover
Summary: After his parents are killed in a "freak" fire, Luke ends up in Rutledge Asylum, only to escape it and fall down a well in the surrounding forest. But of course, fairytales don't always have happy endings. In fact...this was turning out to be a nightmare. Rated T for gore, violence, and mild language.
1. Prologue

**_Author's Note~_**

_Hello, and welcome to the replacement for Luke in Wonderland._

_This is Londerland, a place where all of your fears and nightmares become true, and everything that you've been told is a lie._

_Hopefully this story is much more interesting and strange, perhaps it will even be scary! That would be great._

_I will try to pick a song that you can listen to while reading every chapter to set the mood, so please keep your eyes peeled!_

_**WARNING: This is a psychological horror. If you are bothered by such things as angst, violence, macabre elements, and sexual references, than please go find a happier story.** _

_Song for this chapter: Alice; Madness Returns; Surreal (extended)_

* * *

_**Prologue~**_

_"Reflect upon your present blessings - of which every man has many - not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some."_

_― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Writings_

You never truly realize how good your life has been until everything you love is suddenly snatched away from you.

As strange as this may seem, it is very much the truth.

Poor Luke Triton was finding the truth in this statement at that very moment.

He could hardly believe his eyes as he stared up at his burning house from the snow, his eyes and lungs burning from the acrid, black smoke.

Luke was trying to convince himself that it was all a dream, that his house and parents weren't really burning, that he wasn't really laying in the cold snow and watching something unthinkable.

But, there was something deep inside him that knew what was happening- and knew he had to get help.

Still, Luke could not force himself into a siting position, or even find the strength to roll over. He could only watch in horror as his entire life was shattered before his eyes.

How had this happened? What had caused such an inferno to break lose?

All Luke could remember was an unpleasant warmth and his parents terrified yells as they screamed for him to jump out of his window to save himself.

_"Luke!"_

_"Mum?"_

_"Luke!"_

_"Fire, fire!"_

_"Dad?"_

A strong hand gripped his shoulder.

Luke looked upwards and found himself face to face with a concerned looking firefighter.

"Son, move away from the house. We can't have any more casualties today."

Luke did not want to move, he wanted to stay here, with his house.

If it was going to burn, then so was he.

"Son, we need you to move aside." the firefighter scooped Luke into his arms and carried him away from the fire with a quick pace and set him down on a small cot with rolling wheels.

A mask was strapped over his nose and mouth.

Luke immediately grew frightened.

What was happening to him?

"It's alright, you're okay." a kind looking woman said, gripping his hand tightly and wheeling his bed away from the house. "Follow me with your eyes."

Luke didn't want to follow her with his eyes. "Mum...Dad..."

"It's okay, look at me."

"Mum...Dad...!"

"Look at-"

"Mum! Dad!" the shock had finally worn off, and the immense sadness of the moment overcame him. "Mum, Dad! Come back!"

"Calm down, everything's alright." the nurse said, still trying to turn his attention towards her.

"I want my parents!" Luke screamed, trying to push himself off the rolling cot.

The nurse and another paramedic laid him back down, calling to other various medical team members.

"Mum! Dad! Don't leave me!" Luke yelled.

It was too late.

The fireman knew that it was, and therefore, hadn't even bothered to try to get inside.

Instead, they began pumping water from their big, red engine onto the house, gradually dousing the flames.

The world was beginning to go fuzzy, and Luke knew that very soon he would find himself asleep.

"Mum! Dad!" he yelled, with as much strength as he could muster.

The nurse said something again, but Luke couldn't quite understand what she had said.

Lights popped before his eyes and his head began to feel heavier than it had before.

Something else wasn't quite right either, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Mum...Dad..."

Luke Triton had had many blessings, but in less than an hour, he had gone from many to none.

* * *

**_Author's Note~_**

_The prologue is up! I hope you enjoyed it!_

_Please take a moment to tell me what you enjoyed and things you think could be improved (don't say length because chapters are going to be at least a thousand words each.)_

_Thanks again and happy reading!_

_MikuLover~_


	2. Chapter 1: Rutledge Asylum

_**Author's Note~**_

_Hello, and welcome back to Londerland!_

_I'd like to start with thanking everyone who took time to review and favourite! That means so much to me!_

_Time jump! It is now three weeks after the fire!_

_And here's the song for this chapter: watch?v=TK6Gf-qFa-o_

_Enjoy!~_

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_**Chapter 1~ Rutledge Asylum**_

Rosa Grimes, he faithful housekeeper and friend of professor Layton, smiled as the friendly postman handed her a few letters. "Good morning." Rosa said, not bothering to ask his name. This mail hand-off had been going on for three years now, and neither knew the other's name. They didn't need to.

However, instead of returning Rosa's smile, the postman gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry to hear about your son, ma'am." he said, tipping his hat towards her. "Perhaps he'll be released soon, eh? We can only pray." Rosa was stunned! Son?

"Excuse me sir, but I think you're mistaken." she said, her smile faltering. "I Dnt have a son." the postman touched her hand gently.

"It's all right ma'am, I know you're ashamed and afraid of what society will think. You don't have to hide your son from me."

Rosa was even more confused. She didn't even have a daughter, let alone a son. "I think you're making a mistake," Rosa repeated, "I don't have any children at all." the postman frowned.

"Sure you do, I've seen him running around outside with your daughter, the little brunette. He wears a blue cap, I think."

"Oh, you mean Luke. Oh dear, he's not my son. He's my employer's-"

"Ah," the postman said, lowering his voice, "the boss's deformed son, eh? Ordered not to talk about him? Well, it's all right. Tell him I offer my condolences." and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Rosa completely baffled.

"Honestly," she mumbled as she shuffled back inside, "young folks these days. Ask you a question and never even let you answer."

Still, Rosa couldn't help but think about what the postman had said. What had he meant by he was "sorry about Luke"? It didn't make any sense, Luke was on holiday at home with his parents, he was just visiting. Did the postman think he had passed away, or gotten ill? Rosa sighed and closed the door behind her, and began on the professor's tea.

Like usual, the poor professor had fallen asleep on the couch, a book clutched in his hand and laying across his chest. His thin legs were bent at odd angles, giving the impression that he had been dreaming. Rosa smiled and pinched his arm, waking him at once. "Wha-?! Oh, Rosa dear, it's only you." he said, sighing with relief.

Rosa chuckled. "Oh professor, reading again? You're going to ruin your eyes. Such pretty eyes." Rosa had often commented the professor on his eyes, saying that the dark irises were his "forte with the ladies".

"I don't get much time to read anymore, now that I have Flora to take care of, along with Luke." Layton said, stretching and running his fingers through his light-brown colored hair. "Night time is ideal for me."

"Be that as it may," Rosa tutted, "it's not healthy to stay up so late." she handed the professor a cup of tea.

"Ah, thank you Rosa." he said, smiling and sipping the warm liquid. Starting the day with a cup of tea meant starting the day off right.

"Mail for you," Rosa said, handing the professor his stack of mail as well.

"Thank you again Rosa." the professor set the letters next to his tea saucer, and stretched again.

"Oh, and by the way," Rosa said, beginning to straighten the professor's constantly messy desk, "the postman offers you his condolences." Layton flashed her a curious look.

"Pardon?"

"The postman told me that he was sorry about Luke and that he offered his condolences. He also says he "hopes he gets out soon". Now, I wonder what he could've meant by that?" she said, throwing a few crumpled up papers into the trash can.

"As do I Rosa, as do I." Layton murmured. What could the postman have met by that? Ah well, he thought, I might as well start on this mail.

Flipping through the letters, he looked for the most official-looking one first. There was a letter from a few Londoners asking him to solve puzzles, a letter from his sister Winnifred, who was on holiday in America, and one from-

"Rutledge Asylum?" Layton mused out-loud. Rosa glanced over at him and walked over, looking over his shoulder and reading the return address of the letter.

"Now, why on earth would they have sent us mail?" she chuckled. "I'm nt that old yet, my marbles haven't started to slip."

"Oh, Rosa." Layton chuckled, though there was an edge of fear in his voice. Why would they have sent him a letter? Clearly, it wasn't a mistake, as the letter was addressed to Mr. Hershel Layton.

Cautiously, he slit open the letter and pulled out an official-looking document. It looked as official as it's envelope. "Dear Mr. Layton," he read aloud, his eyes scanning the letter.

Suddenly, the color from his face drained and his hands began to shake. Rosa watched all of this in half amusement and half horror. She knew something horrible must have been written on the letter for it to be able to shake the professor like that. "Professor, what ever is the matter?" she asked, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"Where's Flora? Is she at home?" he asked, jumping upwards and pulling on his long, black coat and of course, his trademark top hat. "Please, fetch her Rosa and tell her to gather her jacket!" Rosa had never heard the professor sound so concerned before, and so she did not protest, though it was not in her job description to "fetch people".

Rosa walked quickly down the hallway of the university's hallway, knowing immediately where Flora was. She would be in the art room, as the young girl would often sit in during classes and paint. Flora was very artistic and talented. Sure enough, the young girl was alone in the room, wearing and apron and stroking her brush against a brilliantly white canvas.

Her hazelnut hair was tied up in a pony-tail and she was wearing a plain, peach colored shirt and a black skirt. She turned as she heard Rosa enter.

"Rosa? What's the matter, you look upset." she asked, in her small and gentle voice.

"Flora, the professor has told me that you need to put on your coat. He says you two are leaving for somewhere." Rosa said. Flora's eyes widened.

"Really?"

"No, but that was the general idea." Rosa sighed. Flora stood up and wiped her hands on the apron, and then proceeded to pull it off over her.

"Did he say why?" she asked, grabbing her little pink jacket.

"No," Rosa admitted, "but it has something to do with a place called Rutledge Asylum." Flora paled.

"He's not dropping me off at an asylum is he?" she asked, terrified.

"No, no dear, just get your jacket."

Flora and Rosa met Layton in the hallway, who told Flora to get into the Laytonmobile. Flora obliged. As Rosa watched the professor muck about in pockets for a moment, she wondered what the letter had said.

"Ah ha!" the professor cried, pulling his keys out of his left pocket and walking briskly for the door. "Rosa, cancel my meetings for today and tell Dean Delmona I'm taking a personal day. It's an emergency, tell him that!"

"But professor, what should I say the emergency is?" Rosa called after him.

"It's Luke!" he called over his shoulder as he jogged towards the Laytonmobile, which Flora was already seated in. "He's been in an accident!"

* * *

**_Author's Note~_**

_Ooh, sweet suspense._

_Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Fun fact: Rutledge actually means "Red Pool"._

_Please remember to review! Tell what you liked and what you didn't like!_

_Thank you again and happy reading!_

_MikuLover~_


	3. Chapter 2: A Puzzle from the Guard

**_Author's Note~_**

_AH! Thanks for all of the nice reviews! You are all SO nice. *sniffles and then bursts into tears* I just feel so loved!_

_I had a bit of a derpy moment today. I took a shower, and then started putting on what I thought was lotion. It was actually facial cleanser._

_Guess who took two showers today? And I'm still itchy!_

_Ah ha ha! Well then, let's start with the next chapter!_

_Song: Sorry, I don't know if I have one for this chapter. Do me a favor and tell me if you actually do listen to the songs, and if you so, I'll try to find them moe often._

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**Chapter 2~ A Puzzle from the Guard**

The professor pulled out of the University's parking lot and sped down the street, occasionally glancing at his map. After all, he had never been to Rutledge before.

"Professor, why exactly are we going to this asylum?" Flora asked, who was seated next to the professor. Despite the circumstances, she was rather excited. After all, it was the first time she had been taken along on an adventure (and sat in the passenger's seat).

"I'm not sure I know Flora, dear." the professor said, testing the speed limit and in doing so, earning himself angry looks from the other drivers. "The letter only asked for me to come to their office and discuss what has happened to Luke."

Flora fell silent at this, realizing that the professor didn't wish to talk at the moment.

What had happened to Luke that had caused him to be placed in the facility? What "accident" had the professor been talking about? And most importantly, why had they sent the letter to the professor instead of Luke's parents?

"Flora dear," the professor said, making a quick turn that sent Flora crashing into her door, "would you mind reading aloud the directions for me?

"Uh, sure professor." Flora picked up the map and attempted to read it.

"Okay, turn left now!" she cried, pointing to a turn that was only a few feet away.

The professor turned sharply, and let out a surprised gasp. A few angry drivers honked at the little red car.

"Ah! Flora," the professor panted, "do you think you could give us a bit more of a warning before you tell me when to turn?"

"Oh, okay. RIGHT!" she screamed, making the professor gasp again. The faithful Laytonmobile barely made the turn, and for a moment, it balanced on two wheels! The fellow drivers watched in awe, wondering what sort of maniac was at the wheel.

"F-Flora..." Layton squeaked, breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Right again! Professor, quick!" the young brunette yelled. Layton slammed to the right and grit his teeth as the tires of the car screeched in complaint.

"Dearest," the professor breathed, trying not to sound upset, "perhaps we don't need the map anymore." Flora took the hint and folded the map neatly, placing returning it to its glove compartment home.

"Sorry professor Layton." she said in a low voice. The poor girl was obviously embarrassed.

"It's not a problem Flora." Layton smiled as widely as he could. Right now, his usually crooked grin was replaced by a sort of grimace.

The rest of the car ride continued in silence. If Luke were here, Flora thought, we would all be praying for silence. Luke was rather notorious for his talkative manner, and was known to ramble on and on about the strangest things.

Suddenly, Flora noticed that the area of town they were in was much different than the London she was used to. In fact, she had never been here before and she was willing to bet the professor hadn't either. The buildings looked much older, and they had been built out of bricks that were now starting to crumble, giving the area a rather spooky atmosphere. The people walking the streets also looked a little less than friendly.

Everyone seemed to be wearing clothes of monochrome shades, nothing else. There was no color as far as the eye could see. It gave the impression that one was not welcome, and that whoever was unfortunate enough to be passing through the town should make a hasty retreat. The professor glanced about anxiously, searching for a sign that read "Rutledge Drive". For there, of course, sat the asylum that he had been called to.

"Ah, isn't that it up there?" Flora asked quietly, pointing towards a large, iron wrought gate. Behind the gate, a long, dirt road wound towards the building in question.

"I do believe it is Flora. Well done." the professor smiled, eager to get off of this awkward street.

As the Laytonmobile pulled up to the gate, a man wearing a black waistcoat and matching pantaloons turned to face them, halting the car with the all-too-familiar "stop" gesture.

"Who goes there?" he asked, in a commanding voice. "I'll have you know no one gets in without authorization!" the professor cleared his throat at this and retrieved the letter from his pocket.

"Then you'll be happy to know, we were invited here by none other than your super intendant, Mr. Crenshaw."

The guard plucked the letter from the Professor's hand and proceeded to scan it.

"Right then. I'll just open this gate for you." the man said. Suddenly, he froze and turned back to Layton, a suspicious look on his face. "Hold on a mo. How do I know you're the real professor Layton, and not just some imposter?"

"How dare you!" Flora gasped. "Saying something like that to the professor! Why, if he had wanted to, we would have driven right through your silly little gate!" Layton tried not to laugh at his adopted daughter's indignant lecture.

"Now now Flora, it is not very lady-like to take that tone with an adult." he said, touching the brim of his hat gently. Flora immediately quieted, though still fuming. When the professor turned back to the guard, she stuck her tongue out at the rude man, who in turn, stuck his out at her.

"Very well sir," Layton said, "if it's proof you want, it's proof you'll have." he reached into his pocket for his driver's license, but the guard stopped him.

"Uh uh uh! Not so fast mister!" he cried, waving a sneaky finger at the taken aback professor. "You could've swiped that. No, I'll need to test you with a puzzle."

"Very well then." Layton replied. "I'm ready sir."

"Alright. Mr. Crenshaw gave me this one earlier today, and it's a real stumper. Let's see if you really are professor Layton.

"Two men are playing chess. They play five games, and each man wins the same number of games, with no ties. How is this possible?"

Layton thought for a moment. It was true, it did require a moment of thought, but once he looked at it logically, it became so simple that he almost laughed aloud.

"The two men aren't playing with each other, and their scores happen to be a coincidence." he said confidently. The guard slapped a hand to his forehead.

"Ah shucks, why didn't I think of that?" he moaned. "Alright, I guess you can go through. Send Mr. Crenshaw my regards."

The guard shuffled to a small post which he had been stationed by and pressed a diabolical-looking red button, the classic style of any megalomaniac villain. With a loud whirring noise, the gate slowly opened inwards, and a gust of wind sent a small whirlwind of leaves in Flora and Layton's direction. Perhaps it was that the breeze had been a cool one or because of the timing of the event, but whatever it had been, a shiver traveled down Flora's spine.

As the gate clanked to stop, Layton tipped his hat towards the guard yet again, and then proceeded to drive down the long, winding road. Soon, the large building loomed in the distance, it's presence giving off an aura of unpleasantness...and danger. It was clear that the asylum had once been an old mansion, hence the large yard and long driveway. In front of Rutledge sat two small, ornamental pear trees. And in between the pear trees was the front door, in front of which sat a young girl.

The girl's soft brown hair was tied in two pigtail-braids and secured with white ribbons that matched her lacey shirt. Her jean shorts had smears of mud on the knees, and Flora knew just by looking at her that she was not a patient here. No, she was merely a visitor. No one suffering from mental anguish could look so indifferent.

The professor noticed the girl as well, so as he parked the Laytonmobile and stepped outside, he approached the child.

"Excuse me," he said, causing the girl to look up at him with a bored expression. "My name is Mr. Layton, and I have important business here with Mr. Crenshaw. Do you happen to know if he's in?" the girl blinked.

"Daddy? Sure, he's in. He's always here, he never leaves." she replied, beginning to ramble. "In fact, he's here so often the mummy says he loves his job more than her. Maybe that's why she's been seeing Mr. Bob so often?" as much as Layton would have loved to hear about this girl's family issues, he had more important matters at hand.

"Thank you dearest," he said, stepping around her and turning the tarnished, bronze handle on the old, oak door.

* * *

**_Author's Note~_**

_Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and at least tried to solve that puzzle. Believe it or not, that was a puzzle our math teacher gave us._

_Who says video games don't make you smarter? I got five extra credit points for answering correctly. Booyah!_

_Again, please take a few minutes out of your busy day to tell me what you liked and disliked about this chapter. I really do appreciate it, and remember, one author's flames are another author's treasure._

_Thanks again! Happy reading,_

_MikuLover~_


	4. Chapter 3: The Basement of Rutledge

_Author's Note~_

_Hello! I saw "House at the End of the Street" today, and guess what? It totally sucked! My friend and I were just sitting there, waiting for something scary to happen, and it didn't even make us jump once._

_It was pretty suspenseful though, and I recommend it. It's a good "scary" movie for sleepovers._

_AGAIN- I'm sorry for being gone so long, that was a huge derp on my part for being lazy and playing video games instead of writing. Video games are not to be played until homework and updating are done. I promise!_

_Enjoy chapter four of Londerland!~_

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As soon as Flora stepped through the opened the door of the mansion, it became apparent to her that it must have been a very grand house in its day. Now however, it was old and musty-smelling, with cobwebs hanging from the old-fashioned brass chandelier and dust particles floating in front of her.

The wallpaper of the foyer was old-fashioned as well, with a strange pattern that she couldn't remember the name of. It was faded and peeling, and flakes of it littered the ground around the walls. A few tarnished oak tables were scattered here and there, with expensive-looking, dusty vases sitting upon them. Nearest the door on the opposite side of the foyer sat an oak desk, and seated at the desk was an older woman who looked to be in her late fifties. The woman's name plate read "Samantha Archman".

Samantha was busy typing information into the large computer that sat on her desk, and didn't bother to look up when Layton and Flora approached. She merely cleared her throat and grunted, "Do you have an appointment? I can't let you in without an appointment."

"Yes madam, as a matter of fact, we do." The professor produced the strange envelope and Samantha snatched it from him, with a smug look on her face.

"Let me see that. We have lots of people trying to fool their way in here." as much as Layton doubted the statement, he didn't argue with Ms. Archman. After all, who would want to fool their way into an asylum? Samantha scanned the letter, checked the signature with a magnify glass and then scowled, handing it back to Layton.

"Well, I can see that you're not a fake." she said, with a hint of disappointment. "I'll go ask Mr. Crenshaw if he's ready for you." Samantha heaved herself up from her chair and stomped across the room, slowly turning the golden doorknob of Mr. Crenshaw's office and stepping inside, taking care to hide the view of the inside of the office from Layton and Flora. The two friends stood in the room, waiting for the irritable secretary to emerge from the mysterious room and grant them entrance- the professor didn't think his nerves could take much more.

"Professor, why do you think Luke is here?" Flora asked, feeling as though she had asked this question thousands of times before. Layton smiled down at her in a rather forced manner and grasped her shoulder. It was the only way he could think to comfort her.

"I'm not sure, my dear. I don't think I'm the best person to ask." Flora couldn't help herself- the stress from worrying about her best friend and being in this strange town got to her, and so, she let her composure slip.

"But you always know the answer, professor! That's why I asked you, because you're the smartest person...ever! You have to know!" her bottom lip trembled, and before she knew what was happening, the professor had pulled her into a hug. It was an impulsive action, one that on any other day would have startled Flora, but now...it just seemed like the proper response. Neither of them broke apart until Samantha slammed the office door closed and flopped back down in her chair.

"He's ready to see you. Make sure you're shoes aren't dirty." Layton was momentarily thrown by Samantha's last remark, but quickly recovered and opened the door to Mr. Crenshaw's office.

Mr. Crenshaw was evidently a man who took great pleasure in intimidating his clients and patients. His office screamed "Big Business Man", complete with the self-portrait hanging over the fireplace, and high-backed desk chair. His desk was the nicest piece of furniture seen so far, shiny and free of dust and scratches. The professor somehow knew that this desk, the best piece of furniture so far, was the best piece of furniture in the entire facility. The leather chair rotated to face the professor and Flora, and the duo came face to face with the infamous Mr. Henry Crenshaw.

"Hello, hello. My name is Mr. Crenshaw. And you are?" Mr. Crenshaw was an older man, with greying hair and a beard, and half-moon spectacles. His long, tapering fingers met with each other, and he was leaning with his elbows on his desk. The professor approached the man and tipped his hat towards him, smiling pleasantly.

"Hello, good sir. My name is Professor Hershel Layton, and this is my daughter, Flora Reinhold. We have received a letter from you concerning a certain young man called Luke Triton." Mr. Crenshaw sat forward eagerly and his eyes seemed to light up. It was clear that he knew exactly who Luke was.

"Ah, Mr. Triton. Yes, he's been giving the nurses quite some trouble." Mr. Crenshaw said, stroking his beard. "Tell me, if you really are the great Professor Layton, then you should be able to solve this puzzle in no time."

"With all due respect, sir." Layton said, tipping his hat again.

"Good...good." Mr Crenshaw smiled craftily, and then proceeded to tell the puzzle. "Mary's mum has four children. The first child is called April, the second, May and the third, June. What is the name of the fourth child?" It didn't take Layton more than a second to answer, and when he did, Mr. Crenshaw seemed satisfied. "Ah, I should've known I couldn't fool you, Mr. Layton."

"Thank you, sir." Layton smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed now that he had been given a puzzle. "Now, if you don't mind, could you please elaborate on the matter of Luke?" Mr. Crenshaw gestured to the two chairs situated in front of his desk, and Layton and Flora sat in them, each listening carefully to Mr. Crenshaw's explanation.

"Well, a few weeks ago, Luke's parents were killed in a house fire, leaving Luke the only survivor." Layton's mouth fell open. Clark and Brenda...dead?! No, it couldn't be! How? When? Who? "Luke was hospitalized for mild burns, and then was declared clinically insane; it's a classic case of Survivors Guilt. Because you are the guardian of Mr. Triton, we sent you this letter to come and visit Luke, and perhaps send him to a different facility." Layton sat, dumbfounded, trying to process this awful news. His friends, the parents of his best friend, were dead. So suddenly, so horribly.

"Do...do you think we could visit Luke, sir?" Flora spoke to Mr. Crenshaw for the first time, timidly. "I lost my parents at a young age, so perhaps I could speak to him. Maybe he just needs closure or-" Mr. Crenshaw interrupted Flora with a great, booming laugh.

"Oh, that's rich! My dear, you don't think we've tried that already? If it were that simple, then there wouldn't be any mental illnesses in the world!" Flora felt stupid for suggesting something so laughable, and she was beginning to dislike Mr. Crenshaw. He made everything seem too causal, from Mr. and Mrs. Triton's deaths, to Luke's going insane.

"Sir, Mr. Crenshaw, do you think we could still visit Luke? I'm sure he would enjoy the company." Layton said, in as calm a voice as he could muster. After all, he had just learned of the death of his two close friends. Now, he was being told his best friend was teetering on the edge of insanity- it was wonder he could speak at all.

"Of course, of course. That is, after all, one of the main reasons you are here." Mr. Crenshaw stood and stretched his achy back, and then led the professor and Flora towards his door. "I'll accompany you to his room. After all, this is a rather big establishment. We wouldn't want you two getting lost." he held open the door for the others, and both guests thanked him as they stepped back into the foyer.

Samantha looked up from her computer screen as they exited the office, and she nodded to Mr. Crenshaw.

"Shall I page Nurse Klein to show Mr. Layton and his daughter to their destination?" Mr. Crenshaw shook his head.

"No, no Samantha. I'll be showing them myself." when Samantha looked surprised, Mr. Crenshaw elaborated. "They are respected guests, and as such, I shall show them some hospitality by personally guiding them to Mr. Triton's room." Samantha snorted.

"So, you're Mr. Triton's guardian, are you?" when Layton nodded, she snorted again and turned back to her computer screen. "Huh! Good luck, you may want one of the nurses to tie him down before you enter." Layton was startled to hear this, and was about to interrogate Mr. Crenshaw even further on the matter, but they were interrupted by their guide's nervous laugh.

"Oh Samantha, come now. We'll be just fine. You two, if you would, please follow me." the elder man turned to a small door and opened it, revealing a rickety, wooden staircase that lead far down into some sort of basement. Without another word, Mr. Crenshaw began to descend the staircase, followed closely by Layton and Flora.

As Flora climbed down the creaky staircase, she felt the air and aura of the asylum change as they left the splendor of the grand foyer and entered the more sinister part of the building. The walls were bare, slabs of concrete, there were no paintings or portraits to brighten the area, and the air was stale and foul smelling, making it unpleasant to breathe. Did people really live down here?

"This is the area of the asylum where the unstable people are kept; the ones who get violent with the nurses and doctors." nothing was said after that. Flora felt herself break out in a cold sweat as she looked around the empty hallway. Indeed, it was empty, completely void of doors or furniture. The group walked for a bit longer before they reached another door, this one heavily padlocked. Mr. Crenshaw reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, brass key, sticking it into the lock and turning it. With a click, the larger, metal door swung open, and with it came an assortment of noises, all of them unpleasant.

Moans and screams, yells and vulgarities, all of which were very frightening and unnerving to both the professor and Flora. Mr. Crenshaw didn't seem phased by the patients suffering, however. He walked down the hallway, passing the smaller, metal doors with indifference, ignoring the afflicted people's screams for justice or family members, or water. A few nurses passed them by, nodding to Mr. Crenshaw with respect and curtseying to Layton and Flora.

As the horrible walk down the hallway continued, Flora began to wonder how the nurses themselves didn't go mad from having to listen to this all day. The screams of the insane were terrifying, making Flora wish she had a good pair of earmuffs to block out the horrific sound. But because she didn't have any, she did the next best thing- grabbing onto the professor's hand and squeezing it as tightly as possible.

Nearing the end of the hallway, Mr. Crenshaw stopped outside a door where a nurse was exiting and marking things on her clipboard.

"Penelope, this is Mr. Layton and his daughter, Fauna." he said, gesturing towards his guests.

"Er, my name is Flora, sir."

"Yes, yes. Pardon me. Penelope, may we enter?" the nurse, whose name was apparently Penelope, sighed and stood aside for them to enter.

"Of course you may. But be warned, he's in one of his fits again." Mr. Crenshaw sighed, not unlike Penelope.

"Again?"

"Oh yes. Marie was just telling me that he has them during his baths." Henry Crenshaw clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and then stood aside as Penelope unlocked the door for Layton, Flora, and of course, her boss. As soon as the door opened and Mr. Crenshaw entered, Flora felt that she was too scared to enter. What would this new, insane Luke be like? Layton sensed the girl's uneasiness and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry Flora, I'm right here. It'll be all right." he smiled gently and led her inside the cell-like room, his eyes immediately falling on Luke.

"Oh Luke..." he was suddenly overcome with emotion, his eyes filling with tears.

"Ahh! Get me out, get me out, get me out! Ahh! AHH!" Luke, if it really was him, was thrashing about on an iron bed, his wrists and ankles chained to the bed, to supposedly keep him from leaving his bed.

Luke was fighting against his chains, the parts of his body where they were fastened were already bruised and from where the metal links had cut into his skin. His complexion had faded from its usual rosy color, and had instead been replaced by a rather pallid and sick-looking, ghostly grey. His cheeks were sunken and his brown eyes were dull, with dark circles underneath them.

Luke had also lost weight since he had been admitted to the asylum, and now his figure was no longer skinny and curvy, but skin-and-bones.

"No! No more! No more, I said! Stop that, stop touching me! I don't like it, it hurts!" Luke screamed, swatting at the air around his head, a fearful, frantic look in his eyes. "Please! I'll scream!" the professor couldn't bear it any longer. He rushed to Luke's side and took the boy by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth, trying to snap him out of his fit.

"Luke! Luke, it's me! Professor Layton!" Luke's screams died down, and his eyes fell on the professor's face. Their eyes met.

"Professor!" Luke cried, a bit disoriented. "Help me! Help me!" Layton shook the child again, trying to keep from crying.

"Luke, it's alright, I'm here. I'm helping you. There's no one here except for me and Flora, we're alone." Luke took deep breaths, still frantically looking around the room, and his eyes stayed fearful.

"I-I...don't see you! Where are you?" he asked, crying. "Professor, I'm scared! Where are you?!" Layton blinked.

"Luke, I'm right here. I'm right in front of you!" Luke continued to look for the professor, the tears becoming heavier.

"P-professor!" he sobbed. The professor couldn't stand it anymore- he wrapped Luke in a hug and let the boy cry into him. "I'm scared...I'm scared..."

"I know Luke, it's alright...I'm here...it's alright..."

* * *

_Author's Note~_

_And finally, we see how far downhill Luke has gone since the fire; he's hit rock bottom, man._

_I would appreciate some reviews. That would be nice._

_I will update sooner next time! I promise!_

_MikuLover~_


	5. Chapter 4: Escape to Another Hell

_Author's Note~_

_ Hello everyone! I hope all my American readers had a great Thanksgiving! I know I did! (＾__ω＾__) _

_Thanks again to all of those who reviewed, and to Puzzlingnerd57 who encouraged me to write this chapter. Thanks girl!_

_PS: Everything in this chapter is strictly father/son!_

_Enjoy!~_

* * *

"P-professor..." Luke sobbed, gripping the back of the professor's jacket and burying his face into the man's shoulder. Layton held Luke close to him, trying to soothe the boy by rubbing his back. Past happenings had prepared Layton for this; many times he had comforted Luke, late in the night when the boy had had a nightmare.

_"Professor!" Luke had sniffled, rubbing his eyes pitifully. Layton had sighed and scooped the young six-year-old up, running his fingers through the boy's soft hair._

_"What is it now Luke? Another nightmare?" Luke had nodded and laid his head against the professor's chest, trying to rid his mind of his anything even remotely scary. Layton placed the boy on the bed next to him and laid down, closing his eyes and pulling the boy close to him. Luke had noticed that the professor slept in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and that his shaggy, chestnut colored hair fell into his eyes. "Well, let's hear it then. What was it about? Talking usually seems to help you..." Luke cuddled under the blankets, trying to remember._

_"It was about mum and dad. I think we were on holiday, because we were flying in an airplane. The pilot came on the loudspeaker, and he said we were going to be landing soon." Luke trailed off as his eyes filled with tears. Layton noticed and cracked one eye open, and then he hugged the boy under one arm. _

_"Go on." _

_"We started to go towards the ground, and then we landed. But something went wrong, professor. Something really bad happened, and everything started shaking up and down, and the lights were flashing and mum was screaming..." he rubbed his eyes and continued, "and then we stopped, and the plane just kept on moving, slowly. I had had my eyes closed, and when I opened them...everyone was all bloody and torn up and broken-looking. I was the only one left, professor. They had all died." he began to cry for real now, and the professor tried to think of something comforting to say._

_"Luke, but your parents aren't dead. They're just on holiday in America, they'll be back in a few weeks." Luke sniffled and nodded, kneading his eyes. "And they're traveling by boat, so you don't have to worry." _

_"I know it's silly professor, but as long as we're talking about bad dreams..." Luke mumbled, and the professor listened closely. "Can I tell you something?"_

_"Of course you can, Luke." Luke sniffled again and then looked the professor straight in the eyes._

_"I'm afraid of being alone." he whispered, and the professor was momentarily stunned. Afraid of being alone? "That's why I don't like playing with the door closed, or being home after school and waiting for you to come home from work. I worry that...maybe you won't come back for me." the professor was at a loss for words, but he hugged the boy again and closed his eyes, utterly exhausted. "Then, if you don't come home, I'll go mad trying to figure out why you didn't come back. Was I too loud? Did I annoy you or offend you? Was I a bad kid? Maybe it was all of those..." he sighed. "I know it sounds silly, but it scares me very much." suddenly, he poked the professor and opened his eyes. "Professor," he said, in a very serious tone of voice, "promise me you'll never abandon me or leave me. Promise?" the professor stared for a moment before responding._

_"Of course, Luke." the boy seemed satisfied with the answer, and so he snuggled into the professor and sighed. "I'll never leave you behind. I promise."_

Layton had never forgotten that conversation, though it had been seven years ago. He wondered if Luke remembered it, but figured now wasn't a good time to ask him. The boy was unstable enough as it was, and if he brought up anything remotely unsettling, it might push Luke to his limit.

"Oh Luke, please don't cry." Flora whispered, perching on the edge of her friend's bed and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Luke didn't seem to notice she had done so, and if he had, he had chosen to ignore her. Flora and Layton's eyes met, and for a moment, they sat there, like a worried mother and father.

"Amazing. I've never seen him calm down so quickly without sedative!" Mr. Crenshaw proclaimed, clapping his hands together. Penelope, the nurse, reached into her pocket and pulled out a syringe containing a sinister-looking, clear fluid, as if to ready herself for attack.

"Luke, it's alright. I'm here, and Flora's here. We've come to take you home." Luke didn't look up from Layton's shoulder; instead, he seemed to cry harder. "What's wrong? Why aren't you happy about that?"

"Can't...can't go home...too much...smoke..." Luke choked out. "Hurts to breathe there..." Layton bit his lip to keep from crying himself. Brenda and Clark Triton had been his best friends. He was as upset as Luke about losing the two of them.

"No, no Luke. Home to the professor's house, where's the no smoke." Luke's sobs quieted again, and his body went slightly limp.

"No smoke, but I'll be all alone." he whispered, and the began to cry gently again. "All alone. Why did the leave, professor? Was I bad? I was bad, wasn't I? Don't they love me anymore?" of course, he was talking about Brenda and Clark; his parents.

"They loved you very much Luke! They wouldn't leave on purpose, it was just an accident." a horrible, disturbing accident.

"If they loved me, they wouldn't have put me in here!" Luke cried, his voice more harsh than Layton had remembered.

"Luke, they didn't choose to have you put in here! It was only for what was best for you!"

"They left me all alone! They didn't tell me they were going! It's not fair!" Luke began to thrash again, separating the professor and himself from each other. Layton pulled Flora back, so Luke wouldn't harm her in his fit. The convulsions wracked Luke's thin frame, his eyes wide and fearful. Flora covered her eye and began to cry.

"Oh, make them stop! They hurt him, can't you tell?" she cried to Mr. Crenshaw. Penelope rushed forward and inserted the needle into Luke's upper arm. The child immediately quieted, and his actions became gradually slower and slower until they had completely stopped. Mr. Crenshaw sighed and pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wiped his face.

"Sedative." he explained. Luke's eyes went glassy, and his breathing became ragged and shallow, as if he were trying not to cough. His fingers had frozen, gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Penelope frowned and yanked the syringe from Luke's arm, mumbling something that the professor couldn't quite catch. "Mr. Layton, I think we have some business to discuss now." Mr. Crenshaw said, gesturing towards the cell door. Layton hesitated a moment before nodding, and then, taking Flora by the hand, he led her out of the small room and tried to stop himself from shaking.

Penelope meanwhile stayed behind to tend to Luke, wiping the excess blood from his new wound with a small, disinfectant wipe. If Luke's muscles hadn't been relaxed, he would have winced in pain from the sting of the chemicals. Penelope stood up straight and set the needle on the small iron table by the bed, leaving the room for a bandage to place on Luke's arm.

"Penelope," Luke listened as another nurse distracted his, and they began to talk. While they did this, Luke began to think as coherently as he could, trying to formulate a method of escape. The professor and Flora would leave him soon too, and he wanted to go with them. Escape seemed to be the only way. His fingers slowly began to ache, and soon he found he could flex them again. His arms and legs followed suit, no longer stiff and frozen. Without making a sound, he reached down towards the end of the bed and picked up the discarded syringe. Just as he had hoped, there was a small amount of excess sedative still remaining. Perfect.

"Luke, I've got your bandage." Penelope grunted, sliding the heavy metal door open. "Don't struggle or I'll make sure your bath tonight is extra cold." Luke watched her carefully, his eyes bright and alert, and a bit frightening. Penelope pulled the long bandage out of her apron pocket and bent down, ready to place it over the small hole in Luke's upper arm.

With a lightening quick move, one that seemed impossible, Luke snatched Penelope's wrist and jammed the needle deep into her wrist, injecting the leftover sedative into her veins. Penelope gasped loudly and spluttered, attempting to swing at Luke. Her movements were already beginning to slow, and with horror, Penelope realized what was happening.

She collapsed on the ground, her breathing similar to Luke's, who was chaining her wrist to the ground. He reached into her pocket and extracted the small key, along with a few other syringes full of the sedative drug, and then with staggering, lopsided steps, he inched towards the door of his cell. Penelope watched, wishing she could scream. As Luke slid the door shut and locked it, she was certain she had heard him laugh.

Luke's eyesight was not the best, especially after he had been under the influence of all of that sedative, not to mention tortured and experimented on. Now he knew what Subject Three had been talking about; experiments (and scientists) were horrible people. The lights in front of his eyes flickered, and everything seemed to be swimming. His vision repeatedly swam in and out of focus, but Luke pressed on, making his way steadily towards freedom, towards the professor and Flora.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be out here without an escort!" a nurse had spotted Luke, and she began to rush towards him. "You're coming with me! And believe it, there will be punishment for this!" her bony fingers wrapped around his wrist as she began to drag him back towards his cell. Luke grinned and plucked a syringe from his grip, injecting the sedative into this woman just like he had done to Penelope. The same thing happened: the nurse gasped, tried to hit him, and then fell to the floor. But this time, Luke injected the entire dosage, rendering her unconscious for at least ten minutes. Brushing the hair out of his eyes and breathing heavily, he began to make his way to the door at the end of the hallway, the one that led to the stairs.

Opening it and continuing onwards, Luke gripped another syringe in preparation that a nurse would come down the stairs. As fast as he could, he stumbled up the long staircase, growing dizzy from the number of stairs. Luckily, for the nurses, none of them felt the need to travel downstairs at the moment. I say luckily, because Luke had been prepared to shove them down the stairs and break their necks.

He was in the clear now, he thought as he reached for the doorknob of the door at the top of the stairs. All he had to do was get past the receptionist, which should be easy enough. Samantha didn't seem like the type of woman to try to fight, but if she did...he had a needle waiting right here for her. A sadistic grin stretched across his face as visions of himself pushing Samantha down the stairs after sedating her filled his mind. With a loud creak, the door to the foyer opened, and his freedom was coming ever closer. Samantha didn't even bother to look up from her computer. She figured it was just another one of those gossip nurses that all the guys seemed to go crazy for.

Luke was in the clear; now all he had to do was get to the road, where the professor and Flora would be in the car. Of course, they weren't really in the car, but no one had told Luke that. The front door stood before him, and with a grin, he turned the handle. Only now did Samantha look up.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" she screeched, jumping up and tearing after the small boy, who yelped and prepared himself. With a snarl, Samantha threw herself on top of Luke, attempting to subdue him. Luke struggled with the syringe, and then finally managed to pierce Samantha's wrist. The older woman gasped and shuddered, and then slowly fell asleep. She muttered a few curse words before she rolled off of Luke, and then the boy was free. Free to go to the professor and Flora. Free to go home and be treated like an equal again.

"Samantha, I say, what is going on here?" Mr. Crenshaw asked, stepping out into the foyer to see Luke rush out of the front door. With a gasp, he began yelling orders, and chasing after him. Layton and Flora poked their heads out of the office door, and then after realizing what had happened, the began to chase Luke too. "Stop! Boy!"

Luke, who was now terrified beyond his wits, ran as fast as he could towards the trees surrounding Rutledge, hoping to confuse Mr. Crenshaw and hopefully shake him. "Stop right there!" Mr. Crenshaw screamed, tearing after him. Luke pressed further into the trees, running farther and farther until-

Something beneath him gave way, and he felt himself falling, falling. He looked up and screamed for help, the small circle of light getting farther and farther away with every second. Unbeknownst to him, Luke had broken through the rotting wooden planks covering a small, abandoned well which had been part of Rutledge, until the water was declared unfit for human consumption. The dirt and roots of various plants scraped against his skin, and escaped his grasp as he frantically snatched at them. How much longer would he fall?

And then, with a loud and painful "CRASH!", Luke's free fall came to a sickening end.

* * *

_Author's Note~_

_Ah, finally the famous the Rabbit Hole scene. Except it's not a rabbit hole. It's a freaking well! :D I was pretty proud of myself for that one._

_Next chapter will take place in Londerland! Yay!_

_Please review!_

_MikuLover~_


	6. Chapter 5: Londerland

_Author's Note~_

_Hello! Merry Christmas! We are finally in Londerland! The rotted and diseased part of my mind, and Luke's. _

_There's a funny story behind this world- most of it was made up in math class._

_Anyways, have fun reading. _

* * *

Luke's head felt as if it had been split open. Stars and lights danced before his very eyes, and he wondered if he didn't indeed have a long, rusty blade stuck in the back of his head. He was sprawled somewhere, feeling helpless. A sudden, terrible thought flashed through his mind; had he been captured by the nurses and Mr. Crenshaw? Had they beaten him in punishment for trying to escape?

"Angh..." Luke moaned, trying to get the attention of one of the nurses. Perhaps she would take pity on him and sedate him until the pain faded. No one came, however.

"Quit your complaining, boy!" a harsh voice snapped at him. "Good God! If you can't even learn to stand up on your own, then how do you expect to survive in this land?" Luke was stunned, shocked thoughts racing through his brain and causing his head to throb even more painfully.

"Angh..." he groaned, trying to sit up and see who was talking to him. It most certainly wasn't a nurse; the nurses weren't supposed to talk to the patients unless they were directed to.

"There you go laddie, there you go." the stranger laughed. Luke grunted and pulled himself up into a sitting position, his whole body flaming in anguish. The world before his eyes swam and blurred, and he was no closer to figuring out who the man before him was.

"Ungh..." he moaned and swayed, only to be stopped and supported by a pair of strong, callused hands.

"Whoa there. Don't strain yourself there, laddie." the man chuckled and patted Luke's shoulder. A bowl was lifted to the boy's lips. "Shush, drink." Luke fought against the liquid for a few moments before giving in and letting the liquid pour into his mouth. It was something he had never tasted, something that was spicy and warmed him to the tips of his toes. Luke spluttered and fell back against his pillows, wishing he had refused to drink that vile substance. His vision had cleared slightly, and now he could make out the image of his caregiver. And it looked as if the man had...rabbit ears!

"Ah!" he gasped, pulling away slightly from the person at the end of the bed. The man chuckled.

"Surprised? Auch, I don't blame you laddie. But you should remember me. After all, we met a long, long time ago. In a little garden, in a little town called...Misthallery." Luke's head throbbed painfully, and in came a memory of running through his mother's rose garden, chasing a man with rabbit ears, who was tapping a watch and saying _'You're late, little boy. Now run, follow me! We can just make it if you run a little faster!'_

"C-C-...Clive? Is that...you?" Luke asked, his voice raspy and cracked. The taste of dried blood almost choked him. The man, Clive, burst out in a loud peel of laughter.

"You do remember me then! Remarkable! You were quite the little bugger back then, running just a bit too slow to keep up with me." Luke smiled slightly at the man and attempted to sit up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Just relax, little boy."

"I'm sorry. I'll sit down." he said, leaning against the burlap pillows, and looking around the room. There were pots and pans and strange, exotic looking roots strung from the ceiling. The walls were dirt, and there were no windows or paintings on the walls.

"Excuse me, Mr. Clive?" Clive tugged on one of his long, grungy ears and waved Luke away with his other hand.

"Ah, no no. None of this...Mr. Clive tripe. Call me Clive, or rabbit." Luke cleared his throat.

"Erm...alright. Well then, Clive, why am I here? More importantly, where am I?" Clive chuckled, though the look on his face was much more melancholy now.

"Where are you? Why, this is Londerland. I hope you didn't pack too many hopes and dreams, because you aren't going to be achieving those."

"Londerland? What on earth is that?" Luke asked, sounding startled, shocked, and a bit disgusted.

"I'm surprised you don't know laddie. After all, you-"

"_Clive!_" a shrill, yowling voice ran through the little dirt home, sending shivers up Luke's spine and causing Clive's ears to stand on end.

"Oh, damn it all. Not her again." he moaned, fiddling with the tarnished pocket watch hooked onto his trousers.

"How _dare_ you! This time, I'm going to see to it personally that you are hanged in the hanging tree, and then your skin will be used as a rug for my washroom!"

* * *

_Author's Note~_

_There is chapter...4! Hope you enjoyed it! _

_Any guesses on who is so angry at Clive and why? And why is Clive so surprised that Luke doesn't remember Londerland? Could he have something to do with it in his mysterious past? Hmm...I wonder..._

_Please remember to leave review! Check out my other stories too!_

_MikuLover~_


	7. Chapter 6: Fury and Frenzy

_Author's Note: Hooray for updating! I'm really having fun now that Luke is in Londerland! It gets so much more interesting to write/read, I think. Right?_

_Anyways, chapter six!_

* * *

**Chapter 6~ Fury and Frenzy **

Something swooped and homed in on Clive, hissing and spitting. Clive swore rather loudly and repeatedly, trying to fight off the deranged creature that had decided it would be fun to maim him. Luke watched, frozen in horror, his legs and arms drawn close to him.

"Shit! Get the hell off me, Em!" Clive screeched, kicking the hysterical ball of fur against the wall and beginning to brush himself off. "In the name of the White Queen, what's your problem?"

The woman (now that she wasn't intent on killing Clive and Luke could focus on her, he could now see that it was indeed a woman) licked a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth and hissed. Her brown cat ears were laid all the way back and her eyes were narrowed. Her elongated canine teeth slid over her bottom lip and as she sat back on her haunches, Luke saw that she was dressed in a pair of tattered, faded, yellow overalls and a dirtied, long-sleeved white shirt. Her feet were clad in thick, green, rubber boots and her brown, gnarled hair was hanging around her face in a frizzy curtain. Luke also noticed with alarm that she had long, sharp, curved talons extending from her hands instead of fingernails. Who was this strange creature?

"What's my problem?!" she said, in a dangerous voice, advancing upon the rabbit. "What's my _problem_?! I'll tell you what my problem is, you no-good, promise-breaking, sleazy _jerk_!" a pointy talon was shoved dangerously close to Clive's nose, which twitched in fear. "You left your post again! Again! After you promised me millions of times that you wouldn't do it again! Guess who took your beatings for you?! Go on! Guess!"

"You?" Clive mumbled, barely audible. The cat-woman leaned closed, cupping a hand to her ear.

"What was that?" she asked, putting her ear directly in front of Clive's mouth, which turned out to be a huge mistake.

"YOU?!" Clive screeched. The cat-woman yowled and clamped her hands to her ears, hissing and spitting in complete rage. She swiped her claws against the rabbit's face, leaving five, long, angry gashes across the man's face. Clive didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he smirked and stretched, ignoring the woman's cries of fury and frenzy.

"Yes, me! Who do you think?!" she screamed, pacing the room and pumping her arms in the air to emphasize her extreme anger. "They gave me and Lanzel twenty lashes each! _Twenty_! And now we've been assigned the night shift! DO you know why we were punished, Clive?!" Clive picked his teeth with a fingernail, not really interested in what cat-woman had to say.

"Geez, give it a rest, Emmy. I get it, I should stay at my post and work from now on. Great gangster gadroons." he muttered. Emmy (thankfully) didn't pick up on Clive's last few words. "I had a good excuse for missing work."

"Because you were supposed to load the last few wagons full of rock! But you didn't! And so, because our shipment of supplies was five wagons off, we got four lashes for each missing wagon! You're just lucky that the Red Queen didn't have our heads, because she knows who _really_ screwed up!" Emmy yelled, a bit of a smirk dancing on the corner of her lips. It always gave her satisfaction to chastise Clive about being more responsible. It was her...creative outlet. Then, just like that, her sensitive ears picked up on the man in question's last sentence. "Whaddya mean, 'I had a good excuse for missing work'? Lemme see it!" she demanded, smashing a fist against her open palm. Now it was Clive's turn to smirk as he pointed towards the small boy curled up on the bed, who until now had been forgotten. Emmy's mouth fell open. "Clive...is this...no, it can't be!" she gasped, rushing to the bedside and beginning to examine every inch of the terrified lad.

"Oh, but it is. His name is Luke Triton. Sound familiar to you, Em?" all thoughts of lashings and missed work were forgotten as Emmy backed away from the youth in awe.

"Luke Triton...yes, of course. Caterpillar talked of someone named Luke a long time ago. Wasn't he that little boy who wandered about here for a while, before being transported back to earth by the Hatter?" she asked, musing out loud. Clive nodded and clapped a strong hand to Emmy's back.

"Yep! The very same! And that's not all, but he's older now too! And smarter!" he leaned in close to Emmy and lowered his voice considerably, "And handsomer." Emmy stared at Luke in total respect, her golden eyes glinting and her tail swishing back and forth excitedly.

"Does this mean...that the Great Uprising has finally arrived? Does this mean..." her breath caught in her throat as she swiveled her head in both directions, checking to make sure that they were really alone. "Does this mean that the time of Her Majesty's death is approaching?" Her Majesty's death was not something that was often spoken about. Well, not unless you wanted to die a very long and painful death yourself. Clive grinned.

"Indeed. And this little pipsqueak is gonna lead us to victory. We'll be free at last! No longer forced to work in this silly excuse for a village! Think of it, Em! Trees, and rivers, and...trees! Fresh air!" Emmy laid a hand across her breast, trying to still her beating heart.

"That does sound lovely. Saintly sailfish! We've got The Alice in out hands, Clive! The Alice, the famous one! The Queen will have to fight hard to win against us now! The time is ripe for a rebellion! The air grows heavy with treason! We must act now!" Luke watched in astonishment as Emmy gave her grand speech. He felt as if her were watching this scene from afar, as if he were watching it on a cinema screen. Everything seemed too surreal to actually be happening. This was too...well, he didn't even have a word for it. Fantastical? For the first time in history, Luke Triton was lost for words.

"But first," Emmy said, brushing a piece of brown, caked-with-dirt hair from her face, "we have to make sure our little Alice is ready to meet the Queen. And how shall we do that, Clive? Believe it or not, we ourselves are not capable of training an Alice, or even a general. We are just lowly soldiers." Clive stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes half closed in consideration.

"I think the best thing to do...would be to clean him up and train him with a basic weapon. The Vorpal Blade shall suffice for now. You should be able to teach him as much, and then we shall send him to Caterpillar for further instruction. After all, no one is wiser, and Caterpillar will be able to fund his journey. Humans grow hungry just as we do, and game is much too scarce for a human to live off of." Emmy nodded once, rather curtly, and then held out her hand to Luke. The boy was relieved to see that her claws had retracted.

"Well then, Alice, shall we be off?"

* * *

_Author's Note: Much more will be explained in the next chapter. I bet you're all very curious as to what this talk of uprising and revolution is. Well, so is Luke, so I won't take very long to update._

_Please feel free to give constructive criticism. What do I need to improve? Character? Length, whether shorter or longer? Details? Dialogue? Grammar? Let me know! Don't suffer in silence!_

_Please leave a review even if you don't have any helpful tips to offer. I love to know that people enjoy this story! _

_MikuLover~_


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